#I'm feral and loving my new packing strap

[fullmoonwhiskey]

Wolfie bulge, ready for someone to grind against until I get too feral and need to mount them 🐺🍆😏 They/Them

ft. wolfie tiddies

ok2rb

cis het men and minors dni

[tenpintsofsundrop]

Black Suit

Dom!Emily Prentiss x Sub!Fem!Reader (Smut Blurb)

Concept: After a particularly hard case, Emily takes you home and helps you unwind by showing you exactly where you belong.

Word Count: 2,900

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

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Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader is part of the BAU; very minimal mentions of typical CM themes (murder/crime scenes/etc.) - the primary focus of this fic is smut; the reader character has a vagina and uses she/her pronouns; the reader and Emily are in an ongoing dom/sub relationship - this includes the background element of safewords (that are not used) and pre-discussed kink negotiation that doesn't happen during this fic; Emily is dominant and the reader is submissive; the reader kneels for Emily; mentions of subspace (but it's not directly called that in the fic); the reader wears a collar (no petplay, just as a symbol of her submission to Emily); Emily's strap-on is referred to as 'her cock' or 'her dick'; a very light hit to the face that could barely be considered a slap (not in the name of pain kink, in the name of dominance); hair pulling (reader receiving); strap-on blowjob (the reader sucks it); Emily is fully clothed and the reader is naked; slight cockwarming; strap-on sex - the reader rides Emily's strap; Emily calls the reader 'babydoll', 'doll', 'greedy slut', 'good girl', 'pathetic slut', 'stupid slut'; Mommy kink - Emily refers to herself as Mommy and the reader calls her that; finger sucking (the reader sucks on Emily's fingers); Emily is generally condescending toward the reader in this, maybe it strays into degradation kink or humiliation kink; verbal degradation; mentions of pulling on the collar - but not quite choking? and I believe that is it.

A/N: This cover is not my favourite - I love the pictures of Emily but I'm not a fan of how dark the background is on the right. This whole fic was inspired by the picture on the left - her sitting in the most beautifully gay way, so I absolutely had to include it in the fic cover. In general, I also just go nuts whenever she wears a pantsuit on screen. It makes me feral. So this was partially inspired by that.

...

“Come on. Come to Mommy.” 

Emily had a unique talent for knowing exactly what you needed at any given time. Whether it was a cup of coffee perfectly timed with your three am yawn on an all-nighter case, or her packing a throw-blanket in her go-bag so that you could have a nap on the jet - she was so in tuned with you that she seemed to know exactly what you needed, even before you did. 

Today - after a particularly hard, long haul case - what you needed was to be mindless. The stress of the victims, the haunting glow of their eyes in the crime scene photos, it was weighing on you. You needed to be her perfect, sweet toy. And she knew that the minute that the two of you got in the door. 

She had mumbled in your ear, telling you to strip as she carried both of your bags toward the bedroom. It was a quiet, but firm order that had you shivering with anticipation seconds. Already, you felt your mind melting out of your ears as you watched the wave of her black hair disappear down the hallway. 

Feeling calmed by the acts, you did as you were told. 

You stripped completely naked, and then you knelt down on the corner of the living room rug, your hands lightly placed on your thighs, your eyes completely on the floor with your head slightly bowed. It was a submissive position that Emily loved to see you in, patiently waiting like an obedient pet for her. 

Just the thought that doing this would please her already had you melting into that soft, comfortable headspace. 

It was a simple routine that already had your stressed insides melting into calmness as you did nothing but sit there holding the position, waiting for her. You listened to the sound of her heeled shoes quietly clacking across the floor, and took great interest in the fact that she hadn’t yet taken them off. 

While you held the position, not looking up, you listened carefully as she came into the room. Then, quite expectedly, she reached down and wrapped the cool leather of your collar around your neck. Being as obedient as possible, you stayed entirely still while she did it, feeling tingles of satisfaction flow through you as the collar settled onto your neck. 

This simple act finished the process of melting your brain completely, and now, you could think of nothing but Emily - nothing but Mommy, how badly you needed her. You couldn’t even bring yourself to feel shameful at the fact that there was a sticky wetness between your legs and she hadn’t even touched you yet. She had trained you well enough that just these simple acts, just the feeling of your collar around your neck made you so desperate for her touch. 

Emily then walked over to the large armchair that she had in the corner of the room. It was something she had there for reading books or enjoying TV (during the little time off between cases that the two of you had). 

Mostly, she had the elegant leather chair for moments like this. 

“Come on. Come to Mommy.” 

It was only when she spoke the words that you had your implicit permission to finally look up at her. 

She sat in the chair with her legs spread, a mighty presence in the room with her suit still on. The only difference you noticed from how she had looked for most of the day was a distinct bulge around the zipper of her pants. The idea that perhaps she had taken off her pants, put on her cock, and redressed just to appear this put together for you… it was thrilling. 

She had been paying attention when you said you liked the way she looked in the suit. It was meant to be a perfectly innocent comment when you saw the way she was dressed for the day. A simple ‘you look nice today, Em’. But she saw right through you - the lustful spark in your eye, the way you bit your lip. She knew all of your tells too well, and she knew exactly what to do with the information. Something she had been saving until now. 

You couldn’t help but to savor the pure air of dominance coming off her with the black blazer and black dress pants draped over her, her black heeled boots still on. Her black button up blouse was still on, but she had a few more of the buttons undone than before. 

This showcased the golden key necklace that sat between her breasts. It was something that you had a matching lock necklace of, but you had taken it off and tucked it away with your clothing knowing that it was going to be exchanged for your collar because you were now in the privacy of your home. 

The necklace was something you had lovingly gifted her, showing that you truly belonged to her in every way and absolutely loved it. 

“Fucking. Crawl.” 

Emily ground out the words harshly when you didn’t move fast enough for her liking. 

You had become so distracted by her gorgeous appearance, but you rushed to meet the demand when her words hit your ears. 

The sound of her voice caused goosebumps all over your skin as you were distinctly reminded of who was in charge. Reminded of why you needed her - because you went so braindead when you became lustful. You needed her to guide you in order to get what you truly wanted. 

You crawled to her, making your way to her on your hands and knees. In a very rehearsed part of the ritual, you placed your head on her thigh, looking up the length of her torso at her. You heavily enjoyed how much she towered over you while you knelt at her feet. She gently combed her fingers through your hair while she admired how sweet and submissive you looked. 

“What do you need, babydoll?” Emily asked, continuing with that firm but quiet tone that you loved so much. Something that showed her power with an epic subtlety. 

You eased your head forward until you were nuzzling at the bulge that was threatening to burst her zipper. You felt nothing but firm silicone under your nose, which caused excitement to pulse through you. 

“You.” You told her, your voice slightly breathless already. “Just need you, Mommy.” 

You looked up at her with your best pleading doe eyes, knowing that she would give you exactly what you needed without you even having to voice it. She knew you too well. And she always knew what you needed before you even did. 

Emily skimmed her knuckles along your cheek, gently prodding her thumb between your lips. In the most natural fashion, you began sucking on the digit, enjoying the feeling as she forcefully pressed it onto your tongue. 

Once again, she easily knew what you needed. 

“Such a pretty doll for me.” She hummed, clearly enjoying the sight of you on your knees for her. 

You hummed happily around her finger at the comment, and she smirked. 

“Get my cock out for me, doll.” She ordered, her beautifully calm voice making the words sound like a song. 

She gently pulled back her thumb, causing a wet smack as it suctioned from your lips and she ran the tip of it along your bottom lip. Knowing that you were likely foggy, already mushy between the ears, she gave you a light tap on the cheek with her open palm to prompt you into following her instructions. 

You grinned at this, letting out a moan as a pleasant warmth spread through you. 

You loved it when she took control over you. 

You reached up and popped the button on her pants, and the zipper practically burst open with the force of her stiff silicone cock behind it. You helped get it out nicely, almost drooling at the sight before you - her black pants stretched over her thighs where they were spread wide to accommodate you, her bright red, veined strap-on sticked out from the fly of those pants with just a bit of her dark pubic hair visible above the strap’s harness. It was so fucking beautiful that you could have cried. 

In fact, you felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes as Emily reached down and forcefully grabbed the back of your hair, guiding your head toward her dick. 

You hadn’t even realized that your mouth was open wide with your tongue lulled out, needy and panting like a dog - not until she slid her cock so perfectly into the opening. She easily stuffed one of your needy holes and made the other throb almost painfully, making you wish there were two of her so that you could be filled from both ends at the same time. 

“Such a greedy slut.” Emily chuckled. “There ya go, suck Mommy’s cock.” 

You moaned gratefully around her cock as the thickness of it stretched your jaw open and forced your tongue flat to the bottom of your mouth. Your hands naturally fell to sit on her thighs, a lovely heat on her flesh through the material of her suit. She couldn’t help but to sit back and admire you, effortlessly guiding your head up and down on her dick. You were so pliant at this point, almost ragdoll-like, your muscles like clay that needed to be shaped by her touch. 

“You gonna warm up Mommy’s cock?” Emily posed, her sweet, soothing voice causing your cunt to clench around nothing. You felt wetness smearing against your inner thighs and you definitely weren’t surprised. 

You moaned in affirmation of this, loving the feeling of your lips becoming slightly swollen and sore as she fucked your face on her dick. 

“There ya go. Good girl.” She cooed. “Need it nice and wet so you can sit on it, babydoll.” 

You moaned even louder at this, and Emily couldn’t resist any longer. 

She pulled you up, loving the way your mouth hung slack, showing the messy trail of spit from your lips to where it glistened all over her cock. 

She didn’t waste any time then. 

She quickly got you up into her lap, having you straddle her with your knees over her thighs. 

You were impressed by the fact that her suit was somehow almost perfectly pristine - her pants were barely wrinkled and her upper half didn’t look touched at all. It was something that turned you on to no end, the visual of her in that powerful suit jacket as you sat astride her. 

(This would definitely be something you thought about every single time you saw her in a suit on the job from now on.) 

She began teasing the stiff cockhead along your dripping folds - apparently all it took was a few moments of her teasing, having your mouth filled and the switch of her dominant persona electrifying the air to flood your pussy. She then used a bruising grip on your hips to pull you down onto the hard length of her cock, perfectly impaling you with it. 

You let out a harsh whimper at the feeling of being filled up by her, and Emily smirked at you in a perfectly devilish way. She felt so whole, having you as a perfect naked prize in her lap. She didn’t know how anyone else in the world could be satisfied if they couldn’t have you. (But she also knew that if anyone else tried to touch you, she would have to break their fingers at the very least.) 

You sat there for a moment, waiting for her to fuck her hips up into you - waiting for her to fuck you senseless in that perfect way that she always did. After sitting there for a moment and simply having that hardness filling you up, your pussy leaking freely around the girth of her cock (surely smearing your wetness all over the seam of her pants where her cock was poking out through) - you pouted loudly and gently bucked into her. 

Emily’s smirk only widened, and she looked ever more like the Cheshire cat. Greedy and satisfied as she leaned back in her chair, relaxing into a comfortable stance with her elbows casually resting on the large arms of the chair. She poised the nail of her first finger up to her lips, holding it tentatively between her teeth as she continued to look at you expectantly. 

“Oh, did you want my help?” She asked, pretending to be completely oblivious of your needs. 

“Yes.” You moaned out. 

Your whole body unconsciously flinched toward her, causing you to move only slightly on her cock, a deeply unfulfilling feeling. It was a harshly nagging fullness with no pay off that begged for more. 

“Yes, please, Mommy!” You added on desperately, tears clutching at the corners of your eyes. 

“Do it yourself.” She told you, her tone entirely domineering but not lifting a single decibel higher than it had to. 

She commanded the attention of your entire body and soul with such simple movements, such a calm voice. It was something that had you clenching around her fake cock and moaning deep inside your chest. 

Emily grinned at you and continued on. 

“Come on, babydoll.” She told you sweetly. “If you need it so badly, you’ll fuck yourself on my cock like a good girl.” 

Of course, you couldn’t resist such gentle dominance. You couldn’t go against her orders. 

You reached your hands out and with a subtle nod from her, you knew it was okay to grip onto the lapels of her suit jacket for support. Then, with your knees planted on either side of her thighs in the chair, you began to fuck yourself on her cock. 

After the exhaustion of the day, your body wasn’t prepared for the effort. Your hips soon started shaking and Emily watched in utter amusement as you started whining bitterly after only fucking yourself on her cock half a dozen times. She held back a delighted giggle, not wanting to mock you quite yet. She wanted to see how far you could get. 

You couldn’t keep the pace - if you were honest with yourself, you had barely even started to reach your desired pace from a lazy crawl. The more you felt jolts of pain shooting through your muscles, pure burning tiredness, the more your sounds turned into petulant whines and the tighter you gripped onto Emily’s suit jacket (wrinkling it quite a bit now). 

When you were finally reduced down to mildly humping yourself against her, grinding your hips against hers in slow, lazy strokes, Emily let out a quiet chuckle - a mocking sound that cut right through you (causing your gut to twist with pleasure). 

“You having some trouble there, doll?” Emily asked, once again putting on a tone that was playfully ignorant toward your obvious problems. 

“I - I can’t do it.” You whined out, feeling tears of frustration bubbling up in your throat. “Mommy, help me.” 

“Oh, you can’t do it?” She cooed, clearly teasing you now. “You need Mommy’s help?” 

You nodded furiously at this. 

She leaned forward and hooked a finger into your collar, yanking on it suddenly in a way that made you moan as your torso was forced to collide with hers and the thickness of her cock jostled inside of you. 

“Mommy-!” You gasped, panting against her chin now as she held you there, trapped you in tight proximity to her. 

She didn’t let you get any more words out. 

“You’re such a pathetic slut.” She scolded you harshly. 

You moaned out loudly as she held you close, keeping that one hand with a finger tucked into your collar, holding you tight to her in a way that caused an even, grounding pressure across your neck. She used the other to dig her nails into the meat of your hip, partially fucking you up and down on her cock as she words her hips into you from below. 

With her feet planted firmly on the ground, she had the perfect angle to fuck your needy pussy. 

In a moment, she had built up a harsh, but slow pace that had you aching and moaning for more. She forced you to stare her in the eyes the whole time, keeping her burning charcoal gaze on yours as she held you there, the tightness of the leather around your neck and the stiffness of her length pushing up inside of you reminding you exactly where you belonged. 

“You can’t even fuck yourself on Mommy’s cock, huh?” 

She teased, her voice becomingly slightly breathless from her efforts. It was just another thing that made you wetter - hearing her sex-worn voice, still somehow composed. 

“You need me to do everything for you, don’t you, babydoll? Need me to make all your decisions for you. Need me to do all the thinking so that your dumb little brain doesn’t even have to try.” 

Her words had your pussy fluttering around her cock, trying to milk an orgasm out of the plastic because your body needed her so badly. But that was one of the best parts - because she couldn’t feel her cock, she could fuck you for hours without the curse of overstimulation that you felt. Just another reason that she could be so composed while you fell apart. 

“Yes!” You moaned out. “Yes, Mommy!” 

“Stupid slut.” She spat the words against your lips, causing you to moan out in an utterly whorish way as she fucked into you harder. “But you love it, don’t you? You love being Mommy’s dumb slut. You love Mommy filling up your needy holes, don’t you?” 

Truthfully, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[wytchsbrew]

Vash needed to get fucked.

None of that romantic, sweet, loving bullshit Wolfwood kept talking about, oh, no, Vash wanted to be fucked so hard, he had to walk with a limp for the next three days. He wanted his thighs to hurt, his back to hurt, he wanted to feel lingering traces of Wolfwood every single time he sat down.

Over six weeks had past since he'd been able to jump his husband's bones like that, and the day had finally come when his medical restrictions were lifted - and he'd planned the entire evening meticulously.

Wolfwood usually came home late in the night on this particular day of the week, spending most of his time working with Melanie at the orphanage, so Vash had the house to himself to prepare.

He asked Milly and Meryl if they wanted to have Livi over for the night, and they happily agreed, so Vash spent a while preparing for that, packing her a bag, making sure she had enough milk for a night away from him, showering her in kisses because he knew he'd miss her to death once she was out of his sight.

But, he needed this. He desperately needed his husband's cock ASAP, before he went insane.

Once the girls came to pick Livi up, he kissed all three girls, sent them on there way, and quickly dressed in the lingerie he'd bought for this exact occasion.

Wolfwood had made it very obvious how obsessed he was with Vash's brand new Post Baby Body, so of course, he had to do something about it. So he bought the lingerie he thought Wolfwood would enjoy the most. It ended up being a black, strappy, lacy pair of panties with a matching bra, and a bright red body harness that strapped around his waist, before strapping around his thighs, and his neck, and framing his body with a multitude of straps.

It almost reminded him of his old, belted outfit, the one that pissed Wolfwood off every time he tried to rid it from Vash's body. He'd love it, he could feel it in his bones. He waited until the moment he knew Wolfwood usually arrived home, and stood in the entryway, waiting for him.

He heard the key.

He heard the heavy footsteps.

He heard Wolfwood's voice as the door opened up in front of him, "My babies, I'm hoooome-"

There was a beat of silence as his husband stepped into view, the front door left wide open behind him. Vash saw the rolled up sleeves of his white button down shirt bulging against his massive arms, the unbuttoned top revealing his muscular, hairy chest, his windswept, dark hair, and very nearly moaned just at the mere sight of him.

"Oh," Wolfwood grinned something bordering on feral. "Forgive me, oh, dutiful Gods, for I am about to commit heinous acts against the Bible."

And, of course, Wolfwood leaped head first, as he always did with any action he took. Like a wildfire, he devoured him. Hands grabbed at his face, rough fingertips stroking along his jawline, and hot lips consumed his mouth, sucking and licking and exploring. Wolfwood's kisses were always soul sucking, until he could only melt in his strong hands holding him together whilst he felt like coming apart at the seams, but this felt even more than ever before.

He heard himself whimpering pathetically, as Wolfwood's experienced tongue lavished his own, twirling around the tip before diving further in. He tasted him, in every sense of the word. Devoured him, until Vash felt desperation in the movements.

And it reminded him of all the times they'd kissed before.

Before domesticity. Before their home. Before marriage. Before Livi.

It was just like their time on the battlefield together. They'd ended up like this so often, tangled desperately in each other's embrace, it became the usual, expected even! Something about the thank God, we're alive. We made it to see another day! feeling, resulted in the same response each and every time. Sexual rushes. Frantic hands. Kisses that tasted like blood.

How long had it been since it felt like this?

Wolfwood broke the kiss, chest heaving, lips glistening, front door still wide open at his back, and his hands fell to Vash's hips. "You look so beautiful," he breathed, his lips motioning softly against his mouth. Their noses touches, Wolfwood's eyes half lidded with a comforting, content aura, but...

Vash slowly shook his head. "Aht, aht, Nicholas. That's not what I want."

Wolfwood looked surprised, pulling back to peer down at him further. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Yes." Vash leaned into his touch, pressing his fuller chest and lacy bra against Wolfwood's pecs. "I don't want you to love me tonight. I don't want you to be romantic, and respect me."

The look of confusion and terror crossing Wolfwood's face almost made him laugh, but he continued, in too deep to back pedal now.

"I want you to fuck me," Vash whispered.

"I mean, yeah, we're gonna get to that-"

"No, no." Vash lifted his finger and pressed it to Wolfwood's lips, silencing him. "I don't think you understand what I'm saying. I want to feel you when I sit down tomorrow."

Wolfwood swallowed hard, throat bobbing with the effort, and Vash watched him intently.

"I want my legs to tremble when I stand up after you're finished with me," Vash whispered, and that was it.

That was the final straw. He actively watched the restraints snap audibly deep within Wolfwood, and the flood gates opened. Every bit of that six week aching and yearning they'd experienced in the walls of their own home came collapsing out of him in such a rush, Vash gasped as his husband advanced on him.

Strong hands still on his hips shoved him backwards against their entryway wall, and grabbed one of his milky thighs, lifting his leg and draping his inner knee into the crook of Wolfwood's elbow. Deft fingers reached down and shoved aside the thin black lace of his panties. With a furrowed brow of apparent concentration, he shoved two fingers deep into Vash's pussy.

A high pitched preen escaped his throat as he tossed his head back, letting it thump hard against the door. He was already wet, of course, but it felt so great to have something buried into him at long last, it took his breath away and stripped him bare, and dear God, the immediate roughness of it, the no hesitation, had Vash chomping at the bit.

He wanted it harder than ever before.

Wolfwood gave it to him, pounding his fingers into him, twisting, curling, in such a hurry, all Vash could do was grip toned biceps and try not to scream out of pure ecstasy, because their front door still sat ajar just feet from where they stood.

They'd been mutually masturbating around every day for the last week, but this felt better, so much better, because he knew...

Vash knew...

He was finally going to get fucked.

The thought made him moan desperately over the sound of Wolfwood's wet fingers messily pounding into him, his skilled efforts doing their job - the initial tightness was beginning to subside already, far too fast, leaving him feeling empty and desperate and hungry for more. Shifting his weight, using his hands as leverage on Wolfwood's arms, he shoved himself further down, making Wolfwood's fingers into that much deeper.

Still not enough. So close to touched what he wanted.

Wolfwood growled, low and deep, and shoved a third finger inside. This sparked up another round of good, so good feelings, and that struck his core so hard, he felt the beginning warmth of his orgasm building already.

"Ah, enough, Nick," he gasped.

Concern etching across his husband's brow, he whispered, "You sure?"

He'd never been more sure in his entire life.

Instead of answering with words, he captured Wolfwood's lips hotly, fingertips pressing deep into his husband's muscles. Wolfwood hummed in his mouth, carefully removing his fingers, and kissing him back with everything he had. He plunged his tongue into his mouth, pressing him completely against the wall so he couldn't move, completely at his mercy.

He wasn't sure how long they kissed, just exploring, softly, then harder, fingers touching every inch of exposed skin. Tasting and tongues and soft moans of encouragement, but by the time Wolfwood finally pulled away, Vash was panting, he felt his pussy dripping wetly with need, drooling between his thighs and slicking down his skin.

"My beautiful Vash," Wolfwood whispered, bringing him back down to reality. He deadlifted Vash off the ground with just his hands on his ass - he shoved him against the wall against, harsh, and Vash wrapped his arms around his neck, scrambling for purchase.

He had but a moment of preparation.

A moment of consideration, as Wolfwood made quick work of unsnapping his pants and pulling out his cock.

A second to catch his breath, as he listened to the sounds of his husband hissing at the feeling of his hand on his erection.

Before Wolfwood allowed his restraints to snap again, just the way he liked, and shoved his cock wetly into Vash's pliant and waiting body in one smooth, practiced movement, until he was buried clean to the hilt. Vash's vision whited out, static filled his ears, and it took him several hard, pounding beats before he realized the sound of the long, effervescent cries were not coming from outside their open door, but actually coming from his own mouth, and he couldn't bite them down, couldn't silence himself, because finally...

Finally...

He had Wolfwood's dick back inside him, and it was huge. Impossibly thick. He relished the steady burn, the aching, familiar pain, as he stretched and adjusted, his body hungrily twitching around the cock. Back pressed flat against the wall, his entire body flushed with heat, his throat ached from the severity at which he wanted to scream from being so full and complete, at long last.

It still didn't really hit him the severity of his own actions, until he felt Wolfwood's hand leave his thigh, and fingers grab at the lace of his panties. With one strong pull, they snapped clean off Vash's hips, nothing more than thin fabric left in his husband's hands.

"Open up."

Wolfwood held up the wet, torn panties. Vash's lips parted enough to Wolfwood to shove them into his mouth and against his tongue.

"'kay, close."

He followed instructions easily.

"Good boy," Wolfwood whispered, brushing the shell of his ear. "Now, keep quiet. Our neighbors don't need to know how good I'm about to fuck you."

Vash whimpered.

That tantalizing mouth quirked off to one side, familiar, crooked. A bolt of lightning exploding his entire world. It reminded him of the first day they met, somehow.

He'd been screwed from the first second he saw him smirk.

Wolfwood pulled out and thrust back in with all his strength, setting a hard, punishing pace as his arm muscles strained with the effort of holding Vash up.

He hadn't been fucked in six weeks, so his girth and length were stretching him to his limit, to the edge of painful, he wanted to cry, while he simultaneously wanted more, and more, harder and harder. Though the stretch of six weeks was not that long at all, it felt like so long since he'd been fucked, stretched, and had every good spot rammed into with the strength of a man who'd undergone experiments to be a beast of a killer.

Regular men would just never do the job for him.

All Vash could do was grip desperately to sweat damp biceps as Wolfwood fucked into him, relentless and vicious, unrestrained, with that salacious inhuman strength. Wolfwood shoved his face into his neck, mouthing at his pounding jugular, and effectively pressing their bodies even closer together.

Pleasure mixed with the sluggish pain, and Vash scraped his nails across Wolfwood's clothed back, desperate. He opened his mouth and spat his panties out. "Harder," he begged.

"Fuck, y' sure."

He nodded rapidly, and Wolfwood moved back a little, lifting Vash higher with just his strong arms, and shoved back in. This new angle allowed his cock to bury deep inside him, striking spots that made Vash's vision go white again, and also allowed him to pull all the way out before shoving back in with a roll of his hips.

The long pull and slide of that cock, the wet cacophony, made Vash desperately reach for his own dick with sweaty hands. Finally, closing his fingers around his hot, aching clit, he preened loudly, crying Wolfwood's name in desperation.

This made Wolfwood thrust even harder and faster, his movements turning sloppy in their frantic nature.

The wall shook and hanging pictures rattled in their frames behind him with Wolfwood's new vigor. Fear and panic clawed its way up the back of throat, envisioning the wall of their neighbor's house shaking and things falling from it, until they came to check on them, and the entire, sweet little family next door walking in to see him being railed until he cried. He gasped and sobbed, "Nick - Nick, the neighbors - the wall-"

He understood, thankfully, and lifted him away from the wall, still buried deep inside him. They stumbled across the entryway and into the living room, until he was dumped him on the back edge of their couch. Without a second of downtime, Wolfwood shoved both his legs back as far as they would go, until they nearly touched the his chest, leaving him completely open and exposed.

Wolfwood licked his lips, gaze flitting down to where they met hungrily, and rolled his hips with practiced smoothness, burying himself until skin met skin. His deep, resulting moan sounded so insanely hot, it flew all over Vash in a blanket of lust, and he found his gaze taking in the beautiful man towering over him. Sweat clung to the fabric of his button up, plastering it to his muscular chest; his muscles strained in his arms, shaking and trembling.

The dim light from the only lamp in the room cast him in golden light, the fine lines of his face, the sharp strength of his jaw, and steady determination in his brow. The adoration in his gaze as he watched them fuck, up close and personal, unlike anything he had seen before, from anyone else. Before they ended up like this married, back when they both drowned in a sea of blood, he'd seen that same look every once in a while across Wolfwood's face during their times together, but he'd never known a name for it.

Now he did.

Love.

Heat spread across Vash's chest and ears, and he flung his hand at his clit again, quickly working it in fast circles. "Nick," he choked out.

"Hmmm?" came the distracted response, snapping his hips harshly forward again. It knocked the breath out of Vash's lungs, but he managed to gasp out, "I love you."

The thrusts paused and Vash could have sworn he heard Wolfwood suck in a sharp, surprised breath, despite how many times they'd said it since their first confessions. His gaze snapped away from his dick and met Vash's own, fiery and heated and completely different than they were just moments before - and his own hand moved faster along his clit, so swept away in the attractiveness of that feral look.

"Yeah," Wolfwood blew out a long breath. "Yeah, fuck, I love you, too."

Leaning forward, nearly bending Vash in half, he fucked into him at such a renewed pace, his orgasm splashed over him in a heady rush before he realized what was happening - Vash's pussy twitched and exploded in a pulsating, sharp orgasm that shook through him. His back arched and he cried out, but Wolfwood slapped a hand over his mouth before he got too loud, holding him down, fucking him through it so hard, the couch scraped and scrubbed and screeched across their wood floor.

Oversensitive, all Vash could do was huff and puff and drool against Wolfwood's hot palm, as he was held down and treated like a piece of meat, letting the love of his life chase his completion inside him rougher than they'd ever gone before.

Just when Vash's fingertips started going numb and he felt lightheaded, Wolfwood swore loudly and buried himself completely inside as he spilled his seed. The orgasm felt strong and it wracked through the body above him with shudders and shivers, filling him, claiming him, owning him. Breathless, Wolfwood released his hold on Vash and collapsed to his knees on the floor, cock slipping wetly from him. He pressed his forehead, hot and drenched in sweat, against Vash's thigh.

Vash, though, could only stare at the ceiling overhead, chest heaving, white noise roaring in his ears.

Holy shit. Holy fuck. They'd definitely never had sex like that in a very long time. That desperate and rough and frantic, it was glorious, everything he'd been dreaming about. Hot damn.

Wolfwood, though, always recovered first from their stints now, his stamina knowing no bounds. He slowly rose to his knees and yanked his own shirt off, the movement of which made Vash, precariously dangling on the edge of their catch, move to watch him better. He tossed his shirt over his shoulder.

Once finished, with gentle and soft hands, he lifted Vash from the edge of the couch and pulled him down to the floor with him, gathering him into his lap so Vash straddled him, shaking thighs pressing on either side of his now soaking wet crotch.

Wolfwood's hands began wandering, one rubbing soft circles along his lower back, the other coming up to grab at the lacy cups of his bra and shove them down, exposing his breasts to the cool room. That hand curled around one of the milk engorged mounds, flicking his thumb along the nipple.

It was easy to lose himself in the gentle, caring hands of his husband like this, letting him touch and rub whatever he wanted as he basked in the afterglow of his first orgasm of the night - because he knew there would be multiple to come.

Wolfwood leaned forward, closing his lips around Vash's nipple, and suckling needily. Vash hummed, happily, and flung his arms around Wolfwood's neck, leaning into his attention to his breast.

A gentle warmth filled him, and he almost didn't hear Wolfwood speak, until he felt his lips pull away from his chest for a moment.

"Can I tell you something, Vash?"

Vash tilted his head, regarding the man now looking up at him so gently, almost with an air of shyness in the curve of his mouth. "Of course."

"I... I think I fell in love with you all over again tonight," he said, so earnestly, it ached in Vash's heart.

Vash smiled, pressing his lips together. He felt giddy, like the first time they kissed, like the first time they held hands. "Well, I think I fell in love with you again tonight, too."

Wolfwood grinned. "Looks like I'm the luckiest man in the world."

Vash inched forward, closer to him until his face nearly buried between his breasts. "Why's that?"

"Because I got the Vash the Stampede to fall for me twice. Not once, but twice."

Vash smiled, knowing all to himself how many times he'd actually fallen in love with Nicholas D. Wolfwood. Somewhere in the hundreds, he imagined. Every time he saved someone. Every time he laughed with him. Every time he kissed him. The first time he laid eyes on him, and then seeing him as a husband, married, and as a father.

And he imagined he'd be falling in love with him every single day for the rest of his life.

[thezolak]

Salma ‘Zolakee

Salma 'Zolakee yawned in boredom, clacking his mandibles closed. He cradled his Beam Rifle close to him, giving the appearance that he was ready to jump up at a moment's notice to defend the Hierarchs. Truthfully, he was alert, but…well, he had actually only had to pull the trigger of his weapon once, when a kamikaze Unggoy had foolishly thought he could charge the High Prophets, plasma grenades strapped to his body, and assassinate them without resistance. But, that was the only instance that the sniper had to act. Day in, and day out, he sat in the shadows, waiting, watching, while nothing happened.

Today, however, his boredom was accompanied by another feeling, one of unease, the sensation that something was amiss. Salma had attempted to mark it off, but it was beginning to creep forth again. A Kig-yar ran into the High Prophets' chamber, allowing a welcome distraction from the eerie sixth sense. Salma instantly raised his Rifle, aiming it right at the avian alien, waiting, just waiting for it to make a wrong move…but it did not. Salma smirked in contempt as the Kig-yar knelt before the two present Hierarchs. Surely, he would be turned away, as were most other species so low in the Covenant hierarchy…However, the Sangheili sniper's smirk turned to an expression of incredulity as Truth looked the Kig-yar over, nodded, and beckoned the Kig-yar closer!! The Kig-yar hurried up the steps and to Truth's side, whispering something to him. Salma swore that the Kig-yar looked directly at him and sneered, but…that couldn't have been. The Kig-yar finished relaying his message to the Prophets and, the moment Truth flicked his hand to dismiss him, he was gone. Truth looked to his fellow Hierarch and nodded. Salma, mystified, tilted his head at the two and looked to where the Kig-yar had gone. What had just occurred was beyond him; only the highest-ranking officers were permitted to approach the High Prophets, yet, this lowly Kig-yar messenger had been beckoned by Truth himself…Salma decided to ignore it when he glanced to see his replacement taking up the opposite sniper position, signifying that his shift was over. He did a quick double-take; instead of the usual Sangheili Special Operations warrior or Honor Guard, it was a Kig-yar. Shaking it off, Salma stepped down from his position and knelt to pack up his belongings. None of what just happened mattered; soon, he would be home…He would be greeted by his two sons, Erot and Elto, and his clandestine wife, Eradica…The mere thought of her smiling visage banished any worry or apprehension that plagued him. He sighed happily to himself and began to rise, but paused when he realized that a shadow had been cast over him. He looked over his shoulder, curious as to what had created it…His eyes widened, but it was already too late; the Jiralhanae Major raised his Brute Shot and brought it down into the back of Salma's head, instantly rendering him unconscious. ------- Salma groaned as he slowly came to his senses. He could feel the back of his head pounding and knew what had happened. He attempted to reach up and ensure that he was not bleeding, but something seemed to be constricting his arms…Salma cracked open his eyes to see that the ground was moving beneath him…He opened his eyes a bit more and blinked, glancing to either side of him; he was being dragged by two Jiralhanae. The ground changed to a far cleaner floor: a home, perhaps? As soon as his captors stopped, he finally dared to lift his head to look around. The site that greeted him caused him to gape in horror. It was his home, the furniture thrown about, glass littering the floor, everything ransacked…but that wasn't what terrified him. What was, was his wife, Eradica, and his two young sons, all three of them plasma-cuffed, kneeling on the floor just a few mere feet from him, their heads bowed in terror. A large Jiralhanae in shining golden armor, a Captain, loomed behind Salma's cowering family, a dark chuckle rumbling from his filthy throat. "I see you're awake…Good." the Captain said mockingly, looking down his snout to Salma. Salma glowered up at the Captain defiantly, not even lifting his head to so, anger and confusion filling him. The Captain's mocking smirk faded at the challenging stare. His gaze shifted down to Eradica, a sly sneer creeping onto his maw. Taking it as a threat, Salma nearly jumped up, but was immediately caught by the two Jiralhanae Majors, earning a kick in the gut from one of them. The force of the blow forced the breath in Salma's body to come rushing out of him, causing him to cough and wheeze as he inhaled, shocked. "Leave him alone!" Eradica shouted. "Salma, are you alright??" she gasped, concerned for her husband. "I'm…fine…Just stay quiet, love." he said, recovering enough to speak, though he still somewhat wheezed at first. The Captain now barked a harsh laugh, kneeling behind and to Eradica's side, separating her from one of her sons, causing her to growl at him as he took her by the chin. "So, this is the breeder you keep as a mate? I bet she knows her way around a male…" His tongue rolled out of his mouth, dangerously close to Eradica, his disgustingly steamy breath rolling over her face, making her reel with revulsion. Salma, taking the bait, felt indignant rage boil within him. He growled furiously at the Captain, only to receive a punch to his left cheek bone from one of his pack mates. He shook his head and spat out the blood he felt gathering in his mouth. "Why are you doing this?? This is madness! The Prophets will have your heads for this!!" Salma roared, again receiving a punishing blow, this time to his chest. All three Jiralhanae began to cackle, stirring confusion in the Sangheili family. "Mom, what's going on??" Erot whispered to his mother, sidling closer to her, eyes filled with fear. "Shh, I don't know…" Eradica whispered back to him. "You fool…" the Captain scoffed, aggressively throwing Eradica's head away from him. "You're being replaced. Your entire race is. You see, they no longer have a use for you pathetic, sniveling Sangheili…We are their new guards, we are the physical backbone of the Covenant, as we always have been. They have finally recognized our loyalty, our strength, and have tasked us with your kind's eradication…We may deal with it in whichever way we choose…" Each Sangheili's eyes dilated with dread as the Captain's mouth opened in a broad grin, revealing his numerous flesh-tearing canines. Salma's dread-filled expression changed to rage the instant the Captain drew the Sangheili's own blade from his side, watching as idly looked it over. The Captain caught his glare and feigned surprise. "Oh! Is this yours…? Ah, well…It has been fun toying with you and your family, but I fear we must 'cut' this short…" Both parents saw the Captain's eyes land on their youngest child, Erot. Eradica cried out in anguish as he suddenly grabbed the boy by the neck, tossing him away from his mother. In an instant, he had decapitated the child. Salma let loose a roar of agony as his son's lifeless head rolled in front of him, staring up at him with wild, confused dark brown eyes, mirrors of his own. He again jumped at the Captain, but again, failed; the two Majors caught him by his arms and floored him instantly, beating him until he stopped struggling, a sign of submission. He shut his eyes, only able to listen as his family was destroyed. "Mom!!" Elto yelped, his hooves scuffling across the floor. "It will be alright, dear, I promise…It will be quick!" Eradica choked, barely containing herself as her other son was killed right before her. "Oh, Gods…Why??" Salma finally opened his eyes and lifted his head in time to see Eradica being lifted off the ground, looking to him with tear-stained cheeks. She reached out to him, beautiful blue eyes overflowing with liquid. "I will always love you, Salma!!" she shouted to him, but was quickly silenced by Salma's own blade; the Jiralhanae decapitated her perhaps a bit more callously then he had the children, a look of feral joy painting his grotesque face. Everything around Salma slowed as he watched her body fall to the floor. The thud that reached his ears seemed to echo throughout the galaxy; it was just so loud…But with that sound, Salma snapped. Everything suddenly sped up. Bellowing in unadulterated fury, the strength of ten gods seemed to flow into Salma. In a second, he leapt to his hooves and threw his arms at the two Majors, catching them off-guard. He struck both right in their faces, knocking them right to the floor. In one flawless movement, he rushed the Jiralhanae Captain, knocking the Energy Sword from his furry, tree-trunk arms. With the Captain distracted by the flying weapon, Salma delivered a powerful kick square in his chest, sending him back. Salma ran and caught his sword, turning still in one brilliant move to slash the two Majors in half as they lunged at him. With his two pack mates killed and left all alone, the Captain howled his loss and flew into a blind rage, recklessly charging his armed opponent. Thinking quickly, Salma ducked down and, with one swipe of his sword, cut off the Jiralhanae's legs. He glared down at him as he howled in pain, staring in horror at his bleeding limbs, now separated from the rest of his body. Switching off his blade, Salma grabbed the Jiralhanae by his head and dragged him to his home's balcony. Pausing at the edge, Salma stepped in front of the Captain, tilting his head up so he could look him in the eyes as he snarled, "This is for my family!" With that, Salma stepped to the side and kicked the Jiralhanae off the balcony, leaning over the edge to watch as he fell into the abyss below. His scream followed the Sangheili even as he walked up to a photo of his family. Eradica was dressed in a beautiful, purple silk gown that flowed around her, kneeling to embrace both their sons from behind, who were dressed in their training armor, carrying their metal training blades. Erot, of course, was laughing, fidgeting, trying to escape his mother's grasp. His brother was calmer, but just as gleeful; his grin said so. All three of them were smiling, happy…alive. Salma clenched his mandibles together, a tear finally escaping his eye to slip down his cheek. He quickly removed the photo from its frame and placed it inside his helmet, putting it back on before grabbing a Carbine from one of the Majors' bodies. With weapon in hand, he fled his war-torn home, running to Gods-knew-where and whatever fate he was destined for.